On a sunny and warmish late-November day, my husband and I were meeting some close relatives to deposit our brother-in-law's ashes in a columbarium beside the remains of his late wife, my husband's only sibling. She had died during the pandemic, and her husband had subsequently moved away, but none of us were going to let the grim reaper separate a couple who had been conjoined by a lifetime of shared experiences.
It felt like I had a needle through my back, and it was coming out my front, and I couldn't twist past it. Your mental health is affected. You get brain fog, you're tired, you're fatigued. You can't function as a woman and that's every day for 10 years.
It was really hard at that time, I have never been in such a dark place before. I feel like the steroids made me feel alone. I have such a supportive family, but it put me in a pit and I didn't know how to get out of it. I had insomnia and I know that is an effect from the steroids, but I didn't realise how much I would be affected by it.
It is really, really hard. He said the family had 'cried and begged for help' in meetings at home. 'Does our family unit have to break down? Does it have to get to a point where we no longer sustain this and then they'll step in and give you support? Because right now that's where we're at. We don't have any alternatives. If grandparents were an option, we'd already be doing it.'
